


When in Russia

by ruthc93



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Asexual Ray Palmer, Autistic Ray Palmer, Canon Divergence, ColdAtom Secret Santa 2016, I have no idea how else to tag this anymore I hope this is good enough, M/M, Post Midseason 2, Slow Burn, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9092443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthc93/pseuds/ruthc93
Summary: The mission was supposed to be simple. It wasn't even really a mission, to be honest. More like an errand run.It was an ordinary day, with the Waverider hiding out in the temporal zone and the team all busying themselves with various activities until the next Aberration. Ray wasn't surprised when he was the only one who noticed they were short on food.Even less surprised when he brought it up during breakfast and almost all of them excused themselves from going on a supply run with him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [areyouarealmonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouarealmonster/gifts).



> This was written for the ColdAtom Secret Santa on Tumblr, and my prompt was a story where Ray and Len get stranded. But I actually didn't finish the story in time, and the version that was posted on Tumblr was a shortened version that I had to make do with.
> 
> Now that I've had a bit more time, I've lengthened it, tweaked it here and there, and given it a proper ending. Think of this as an Extended Version, if you will. ww
> 
> If you still want to read the original shortened version, you can find it [here](http://coldatomsecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/154939328935/for-queerleonardsnart-when-in-russia)!

The mission was supposed to be simple. It wasn't even really a mission, to be honest. More like an errand run.

It was an ordinary day, with the Waverider hiding out in the temporal zone and the team all busying themselves with various activities until the next Aberration. Ray wasn't surprised when he was the only one who noticed they were short on food.

Even less surprised when he brought it up during breakfast and almost all of them excused themselves from going on a supply run with him.

Nate and Sara simultaneously called out, “Not it!” and both scrambled to escape the galley with as much food as the either of them could individually carry. Jax and Martin glanced at each other in what Ray was ninety percent sure was a psychic conversation before the younger of the two stated that he wanted to run some maintenance on the ship, and Martin all too eagerly claimed to want to help. Mick glared at him until Ray threw his hands up in surrender, indicating that he knew Mick didn't want to go. Amaya was already nowhere to be seen.

Slowly he turned his attention to the last two members of the team.

Two only recently recovered members.

Rip met his eyes and sighed. “As much as I'd love to help, Dr. Palmer, I still have to catch up on the missions I've missed. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to decline.”

Well, at least Rip was polite about it. Ray nodded at his words and gave a smile in understanding.

That left only one.

Ray swallowed as his eyes landed on him. Leonard, for his part, just calmly stared back.

The team had managed to get him back from the Legion of Doom and reset his memory. Ray was ecstatic to have Leonard back, there was no doubt about that, but he also wasn't sure how to approach this… _different_ version of Leonard Snart. It was clear that he remembered the team, remembered his life before the Oculus explosion, but he no longer acted like he did before. He’d been a lot more quiet, often staying at the edge of the room whenever the entire team was present, and most of the time in between missions and meals was either in his room, Mick’s room, or literally nowhere to be found.

He had, somehow, become even more secluded than before, and while Ray wanted to try and at least befriend Leonard again, he honestly didn't know where to start.

“Leonard,” he said softly, “you don't have to come if you don't want to. I can go by myself.”

There was a stretch of silence as he waited for an answer, or at least a reaction, from the other man. Just as Ray was about take the silence as a “no”, Leonard spoke.

“Fine.”

Ray blinked.

“I'll go with you.” Leonard didn't say anything more as he stood, presumably to throw away his empty plate, but Ray beamed at him anyway. This was more than he had expected from him.

“Meet me at the jump ship in 10 minutes!” he called, earning a grunt of confirmation from Leonard, before turning to leave the galley to get ready for the trip, suddenly looking forward to it a lot more than he had before.

That was how it all started, anyway.

* * *

The supply run was rather dull and uneventful. They took the jump ship and both the ride to the in-the-middle-of-nowhere grocery store in 2016 and the shopping itself were carried out in silence. Ray took it in stride, deciding to appreciate the time he had been gifted to spend alone with Leonard for what it is, even if barely a sentence was passed between them aside from simple instructions and food suggestions.

To be honest, Ray missed the banter and borderline childish jabs they used to throw at each other. He didn’t even realize how much so until they got Leonard back and those things just…didn’t happen. He knew Leonard had been distancing himself, from pretty much the entire team except for Mick, and maybe Sara. He wasn’t really sure about the latter, since Sara had been spending more and more time with Rip.

At the very least Ray wanted to know _why_.

Maybe it was the fact that he was so lost in these thoughts on the way back to the Waverider that he genuinely jumped when a hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder.

His eyes darted away from the controls to look up at Leonard, who hadn’t let go of him, but the other man’s eyes were fixated on something else outside the windshield, and he looked tense.

“What is that?” he asked tersely. Ray finally focused on the view in front of him, and his eyes widened when he saw what could only be called an ominous dark green energy cloud rolling in straight for their little jump ship.

“ _Shit_ ,” he cursed without thinking, and upon feeling Leonard’s hand tighten further on his shoulder quickly answered, “that’s, uh, that’s a time storm. A _bad_ one.”

“ _Time storm_?”

In any other situation, Ray would have appreciated return of the sarcastic tone in Leonard’s words, but now he could only nod frantically as he gripped the controls of the time ship a bit tighter, panic already threatening to overtake him.

“We’ve encountered a few of them in the past year. They’re like, uh, residual energies accumulated from the time jumps that occur in the temporal zone and they’re very destructive. The Waverider would be able to withstand it, _barely_ , but I honestly don’t think the jump ship can?” The pitch of his voice rose with each word and by the end of his explanation he was squeaking more than anything. Ray desperately tried to maneuver the ship around and plot a course to somewhere, _anywhere_ , as he also threw a glance at Leonard. “You, uh, you might want to strap yourself in.”

Leonard met his eyes, and a split second later he was gone. Ray could only hope he was rushing back to the passengers area to do as suggested, as he fully pulled his focus back on the controls and did his best to get out of this spot as quickly as possible.

The random coordinates that he had keyed into the jump ship registered and he could see an opening forming on the green walls of the temporal zone. Ray accelerated the ship to its maximum speed, hoping with all his might that they’ll be able to make it.

They didn’t.

The storm hit the jump ship without warning and preamble and Ray felt the entire ship shake and spin wildly out of control. The metal clasp of the pilot’s seat dug into his muscles, fighting to keep him in place, as his body threatened to go with the momentum. Everything was flashing red and green and Ray felt himself lose his grip on the controls. Giving up on the controls, he raised his arms to protect himself from whatever was ahead.

The last thing he heard was the sound of shattering glass, and he only got a split second to look up at the rapidly approaching blinding white light ahead before something large and dark blocked his view and grew larger and-

Suddenly there was another swerve of his chair, knocking Ray’s head back against something hard, and everything went black.

* * *

The first thing Ray felt was cold.

Then something warm hitting gently at his face pulled Ray back into consciousness. Ray drew in a sharp breath as he opened his eyes by a crack. Everything was still blurry and he couldn't seem to focus.

The warmth reappeared against the skin of his cheek, and this time Ray leaned into it, hoping to stop it from disappearing again. In contrast to the numbing cold, it felt nice.

The warmth stilled, breaking the rhythm it had been tapping. But it also stiffened.

Slowly, whatever it was withdrew completely, and Ray let out a whimper at the loss of contact. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision, and slowly, the interior of the jump ship came into focus.

What was left of it, anyway. His pilot seat was facing right, and to his left he could see the windshield simply _gone_ as branches of what appeared to be evergreens along with - was that _snow_? - poked in from the outside. Black smoke coming up from the control panel escaped from the gaping hole left behind, while nothing seemed to be online.

He turned his head toward the passenger's area. First he noticed that most of the supplies they had bought were gone as well. What little is left behind were strewn about on the floor in odd lonely spots. Then his eyes landed on the other man present, leaning against the wall and watching him quietly.

“Len-” he tried to speak, but it came out more as a croak than anything. Ray cleared his throat to try again. “Leonard?”

“Welcome back to the living.” Leonard didn't sound impressed.

Suddenly, like a flip was switched, Ray could feel pain again, and his body ached. Everywhere.

He groaned as he tried to stretch his muscles. Metal dug into his side as he was reminded of the clasp still over his chest. Quickly he removed it, pushing it up and over his head, and he found it a bit easier to breathe.

He stood from the chair, and then swayed on his feet until his shoulder hit the wall beside him. Ray took the time to let the blood catch up with his brain, leaning against the wall to steady himself as he gave his body a quick check over.

His muscles ached, but nothing seemed broken. He didn't even seem to be bleeding all that much, aside from a few scratches here and there. Ray gave a huff and slowly pushed off the wall, then stretched.

“You alright?” Leonard’s voice rang out again. Ray nodded, rubbing the back of his head, “Yeah, yeah, a bit sore, but I'm okay.”

There was a huff of breath that Ray could've sworn sounded like a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“What about you?” Ray asked, gingerly stepping over the shards of broken glass and various pieces of the metal that covered the floor to get closer to the other man. “Are you okay?”

There was a beat of silence. Ray frowned when he still didn't get an answer a few seconds later. Leonard wasn't looking at him anymore, instead seemingly fixated on something on the floor.

Then finally, he let out a sigh. Quietly, his hand moved to touch the right side of his abdomen, and Ray let out a gasp when he pulled the hand back and it came away red.

“No.”

“Leonard!” Everything was forgotten as Ray rushed forward and grabbed hold of the other man's shoulder in one hand and the blood stained hand in the other. Suddenly he was aware of just how much Leonard was leaning against the wall behind him, letting the solid metal take almost all of his weight. And now that he was closer, he could make out a slightly darker patch of cloth against the already dark material of Leonard’s sweater.

“You're- you're _bleeding_ ,” Ray managed to say, overwhelming panic preventing him from saying more.

“I noticed.” The words didn't hold as much snark as they probably should have. Ray shot a quick fearful glance up at Leonard, then focused back on the blood.

“May I…?”

Leonard gave a grunt but otherwise no other answer or resistance, so Ray took it as permission and pulled up the sweater to reveal the wound underneath.

He gasped again at the sight. A deep cut about three inches wide clipped into Leonard’s side, as blood poured out of the gash in a steady flow. Without hesitation, Ray shrugged off his own jacket and bunched it up before pressing it to the wound.

Leonard made a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a hiss. “You didn't need to do that.”

“Yes, I did. You're _bleeding_ and we need it to _stop_.” Ray was still on the verge of panic, as he firmly but gently pushed Leonard down into one of the passengers seats. “How did you even get hurt from here? From the glass? But you weren't even _close_ to the windshield for it to _graze_ you. What the hell _happened_?”

He was rambling at this point, saying whatever that came to mind, and he didn't actually expect a response from the other man, especially considering how distant he'd been since returning to the team. Ray's mind moved on.

“We don't have a first aid kit on board, which is not okay. We've become so used to having Gideon…I'm going to have discuss this with Rip. I can maybe bandage it with my jacket? For now. The jump ship is broken, this means we're going to have to find help outside. God I hope we're near civilization, it would be horrible if we had to treat this wound with natural resources because not only do we not know where we are, we don't know _when_ we are and if anything here is poisonous I wouldn't-”

“It was headed for your head.”

Leonard’s voice was quiet, but it still cut through Ray's significantly louder panic-induced rant like a blade and Ray blinked, falling silent and instead looking back up at Leonard, full of confusion.

His eyes met with the other's, and Leonard frowned at him before averting his gaze. There was another beat of silence before he elaborated.

“A piece of the jump ship. It tore off from the wing and crashed through the windshield. You were in its trajectory.”

Ray's throat was suddenly very, very dry.

“You spun my chair?” he managed to choke out. His eyes darted back down at the wound, hidden from sight by his jacket, and suddenly Ray felt sick. “This is because of _me_?”

Leonard didn't reply, didn't even look back at him. And as the silence stretched on, Ray only felt worse.

Finally, he swallowed. “We need to get you help.”

Ray prayed that they will find it.

* * *

Of course the universe never made anything easy.

They had managed to make a makeshift bandage out of Ray's jacket, using a knife that Leonard had quietly pulled seemingly out of nowhere and Ray had stared at it for half a second before deciding not to ask. Of course Leonard would have additional weapon on hand. It made sense.

Getting out of the destroyed jump ship was another ordeal. The door didn’t respond to Ray’s DNA - not that it was likely to work, considering the whole ship was offline, but he had to at least _try_ \- but luckily it was damaged enough that Ray was able to brute force it open with a few running starts.

The ache in his shoulder was quickly forgotten when he was greeted by the world beyond the door.

“Oh no,” Ray muttered. He heard Leonard shifting behind him - to get a better look himself, maybe - and then a sigh. “Just our luck.”

They were, as it would appear, in a forest. A forest of tall, dark pines with a layer of white, glistening snow covering everything in sight. The only disturbance to the otherwise postcard-worthy scene was the trail of destruction the jump ship had left behind when it crashed. Broken branches and upturned snow and frosted dirt led a path to where Ray stood.

There was no sign of civilization in sight.

An involuntary shiver traveled up Ray’s spine, and only then did he notice the drastic drop in temperature compared to inside the smoking jump ship. He let out a huff of air and watched it fog in front of him before dispersing in the slight breeze.

Dread pooled in his stomach as Ray spun around to take in more of their surroundings, hoping to catch sight of _anything_ that would counter the very likely possibility that they had managed to crash land in the middle of nowhere in a less than ideal environment.

A grunt of pain snapped his attention back to inside the jump ship, and his eyes widened upon seeing Leonard, obviously fighting back pain, struggling to stand.

“No,” Ray gasped before rushing forward to stop him, “Leonard, _no_ , you shouldn’t _move_.” He pushed the man back down on the seat. “Just…just stay here, okay? Stay still. I’m going to go look for help and see if I can find any-”

He was abruptly cut off as Leonard suddenly reached out and yanked him down to eye level by the front of his shirt with a growl. “You’re wearing a _single layer of shirt_ , Raymond. You’re going to _freeze_ out there, then what? _Think_ before trying to save someone else.”

Ray blinked, too shocked by this sudden turn of events to do much else. But then Leonard’s words finally sunk in, and he gulped.

This was the first time he’d called him by name since returning to the team.

But that was a thought for another time. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Ray nodded a few times, not really trusting himself to speak, and Leonard released his shirt and leaned back into the chair.

Ray straightened hesitantly. As much as Leonard was right, he couldn't just stay here. They still needed help, _Leonard_ still needed help. The chances of them dying would not be lowered by him staying here. If anything, Leonard’s chances of survival were diminished by every second Ray _wasn’t_ out there looking for help.

Ray would never risk that.

He set his jaw in resolution. Just as he was about to announce his decision, a familiar piece of clothing was shoved against his chest.

Ray’s hand flew up to grab hold of it on reflex, and he stared down at Leonard when he realized what it was.

“I can’t take your jacket,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. He wasn’t the one bleeding to his death. He wasn’t the one who needs to conserve his strength and warmth.

Leonard closed his eyes and let out a controlled breath through his nose. “I'm wearing a sweater. I’ll be inside the jump ship. I’ll be _fine_. If you insist on going out there then it’ll do neither of us any good if you die of hypothermia, which is exactly what will happen if I let you walk out there in _that_. Take it.”

His tone left no room for argument, and any objection Ray might have had was swallowed back down his throat as Leonard opened his eyes again to fix him with a glare.

“Alright. Okay.” Ray nodded before putting on the jacket. The way the leather hugged his frame was familiar, and he felt a pang of guilt as he was reminded of the first and last time he had worn it.

Taking a deep breath to push away the memories, he turned towards the door of the jump ship, but not before throwing one last glance back at his injured teammate.

“I'll be right back,” he promised.

He could feel Leonard’s eyes on his back as he exited out into the cold.

It took surprisingly very little time for Ray to find an obviously man-made trail in the forest. As luck would have it, the sky was clear and other than the below freezing temperatures it was actually a rather pleasant day.

Which Ray would have given more appreciation for if it wasn’t for the fact that he still had an injured teammate waiting for him.

Following the trail led him to a clearing, and Ray almost cried in relief when he saw a house sitting at the edge of it.

He ran the rest of the way there, and it was only after he had knocked on the door and was waiting for an answer did he realize that he had no idea what place or time they had crash landed in.

Would the people here even understand him?

As a precaution he reached for translation pills that the team had made a rule to always carry at least two on their person in case of emergencies. His hand landed where his jacket pocket should be, then he abruptly remembered that this wasn’t his jacket.

While he was certain Leonard would have some, he didn’t exactly want to go through his pockets. It felt…wrong.

His hesitation lasted long enough for him to find it strange that no one had come to the door. Ray peered through the windows and circled the house once before confirming that there seemed to be no one inside.

But this was shelter, nonetheless. He felt bad about having to break in, but there was not much else he could do. They needed a place where they can be out of the cold and have the supplies necessary to treat Leonard’s wound.

His mind made up, Ray turned and headed back for the jump ship, retracing his own footprints in the snow that had been left unperturbed.

* * *

“Can you walk?”

Ray knew it was a stupid question as soon as it left his mouth. The blank stare Leonard was giving him right now confirmed as much.

But to his credit, Leonard didn't scoff at him. Instead he just sighed. “If you help me, maybe.”

“Of course I'll help you.” It didn't even occur to Ray that he wouldn't.

Soon, both of them were standing by the broken entrance of the jump ship. Leonard was trying to support his own weight, but Ray could feel the arm that was slung over his neck clinging to him tightly. Ray didn't comment, and instead tightened his own grips on Leonard’s wrist and side.

Slowly, almost clumsily, they made their way to the trail in the forest and down to the clearing.

The entire walk was once again done in silence. There were times when Ray noticed Leonard’s breathing become too labored, and he would stop to let the other man catch his breath, until he gave a nod to signal that he was ready to keep moving.

Ray also noticed that Leonard was a lot more _jumpy_. He flinched at the smallest of movements that wasn't caused by them, from a rustle of leaves by a breeze or a scurry from the wildlife. The hand that wasn't around Ray's neck seemed to have found a permanent perch on the handle of the cold gun.

Ray bit his lip, and he couldn't help but wonder if this heightened alertness while injured had anything to do with past experiences.

It most likely did.

They finally arrived at the house. The five steps it took to take them up on the porch to the front door proved to be the most challenging part of their quest. By the time they made it up, Leonard was pretty much leaning his entire weight into Ray, and his breaths were hurried, shallow, and _weak_.

“Hang on, Leonard,” Ray whispered, unable to keep the worried tremor out of his voice.

With another stroke of luck, the front door wasn’t locked. Ray wasted no time bringing Leonard through the door and only hesitated for a split second at the entrance before guiding them to a couch that was facing the fireplace and a small analog TV.

He gently - well, as gently as he could - lowered Leonard onto the couch, and immediately he saw that the wound was bleeding again. The move here must have aggravated it, and Ray felt a pang of helplessness at how he hadn’t noticed until now. Leonard was breathing in harsh breaths, as if trying to control it, and his eyes were shut tight.

Ray swallowed down the guilt and shook his head to focus. “We have to get it clean,” he croaked, then stood.

After closing the front door to shut out the cold, Ray headed deeper into the house.

Five minutes later he was back with a basin of warm water and more than a few towels. A first aid kit would have been more ideal, but Ray felt like he was running out of time with each second he wasted looking for it. He knelt down by his injured friend and, with one apologetic glance at Leonard, pulled up the edge of the sweater and carefully peeled back his own ruined jacket.

Leonard let out a hiss of pain in response.

“Sorry, sorry!” The words tumbled out of Ray’s lips as he continued to remove the clothing, and after bundling it up in a ball, placed it aside.

The gash wasn’t bleeding as much as it had, but blood still trickled out the edges of it. Some dried blood had crusted where the makeshift bandage had been pressed against, and it was a mess to look at. Ray swallowed before taking one of the towels and drenching it in the warm water.

He was so focused on wiping the wound clean that the only warning he had was the tensing of Leonard’s muscles before his teammate suddenly shot up from the couch and used one hand to push Ray’s head down, as his eyes barely registered Leonard’s right hand swiftly unholstering and powering up the cold gun to aim it at something behind him.

Ray took a moment to regain his balance, then he twisted in Leonard’s rather weak grip to see what the threat was.

A woman stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen. She looked aged, but not old, maybe around mid-fifties. Her plump frame blocked the way entirely, and her gray eyes trained steadily on them.

And in her arms, she held a hunting rifle, aimed straight on them.

The shocked silence from all of them was broken when the woman spoke, and Ray frowned. It was a rough sounding language, and while he couldn't understand it, it sounded familiar. He had heard it before, he just couldn't remember _where_.

“Wait, wait,” he said frantically, turning around to face the woman fully while holding up his hands in surrender. “Please, we don't mean any harm.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, but she didn't lower the gun.

As Ray's mind began chanting in a panicked _what do I do what do I do what do I_ **_do_** , Leonard’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“Translation pills. Left bottom pocket.”

Ray gulped before slowly reaching for the pocket. The familiar shape of the green pills at his fingertips was both reassuring and relieving.

He quickly popped one into his mouth and swallowed, then cleared his throat and tried again.

“Please.” The woman’s eyes widened. Ray slowly stood up from his kneeling position next to the couch, pulling out of Leonard’s grip on his shoulder, and purposely moved between the barrels of the two weapons pointed at each other. The woman took a small step back in surprise.

“We don't mean any harm,” he repeated, his hands still held up in a show of surrender. “My friend is hurt, and we really needed a place to stay out of the cold where I can help him. Please, just let us rest up for a while and we'll be on our way.”

No one moved as they waited for the woman to respond. She looked between Ray, Leonard, and various object around them, seemingly unsure how to proceed. Just as Ray was about to make another appeal, a loud clatter behind him drew his attention instead.

He spun around, and gasped. The cold gun had slipped out of Leonard’s fingers, and the man himself had fallen back down onto the couch. But one arm propped him up shakily, as if Leonard was trying with all his might to prevent himself from completely collapsing.

“Len-!” The woman flew out of Ray's mind as he knelt back down next to the injured man in an instant. Leonard’s breathing was even faster than before, and his skin was clammy and his pupils dilated, and Ray felt panic surge through him when he realized that Leonard was finally going into shock.

Leonard looked up at him, face locked in a pained but otherwise unreadable expression, before the arm finally gave out and his body went limp on the couch.

Ray's own hands were shaking as he tried to force down the bile in his throat and recall what he should do. Stopping the bleeding was top priority, there was no doubt about that. But Ray wasn't confident enough in his own skills to be certain if he could patch up the wound without damaging it further.

“Move over.”

The voice didn't register in his head and Ray was taken by surprise when another hand landed on his shoulder.

He glanced up to see the woman peering down at him with a grim but resolute expression, and in her hands she had a medical kit. “I said move over, young man. I can help you.”

Disbelief and relief simultaneously crashed through him as he did as he was told. The woman knelt down next to him and began examining the wound on Leonard herself, then she frowned.

“This is serious. You did well to keep the wound undisturbed, but it's going to need stitches if we want to stop the bleeding altogether. Luckily I have some experience in that.”

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in, but once it did, Ray put a hand over his mouth as tears threatened to spill over.

“I- thank you,” he managed to push out, “thank you.”

The woman glanced at him, and there was something in her eyes that made her face look softer. “Don't thank me yet,” she said, opening the medical case next to her. “I'm still going to need your help.”

Ray nodded, then shook his head to clear it, slapping his own cheeks a few times. It was already a miracle that this woman had turned out to be friendly and willing to help. He couldn't bet Leonard’s survival on another.

He needed to focus.

“Of course, what do you need me to do?”

* * *

Len didn't wake up straight away. It happened in stages. First he was aware of a much softer surface beneath him than the couch he had been laying on. Then he noticed his side didn't hurt as much as it did before.

Everything around him was quiet, but not unnervingly so. He'd even call it _serene_ , if he wanted to go that far.

Finally he opened his eyes.

Immediately Len saw the woman from before, sitting next to what he supposed was the bed he was lying in. She was reading a book, and had on a pair of glasses that Len didn't recall seeing before. The woman glanced up after a few seconds of staring, and gave very little reaction to seeing him awake.

Quietly the woman reached for something on the nightstand next to her, and she came back to offer him a familiar green pill.

Len stared at it warily for a moment, but he understood. Taking it out of her hands, he didn't hesitate as he put it to his mouth and swallowed.

“You are awake,” the woman stated simply. “I was told I wouldn't be able to speak to you unless you ate that.”

He gave a grunt of acknowledgement. Speaking of which…

“Your companion is sleeping in the next room. He exhausted himself with worry, and still refused to rest. Had to give my word that I wouldn't let you die for him to even think about leaving your bedside.” The woman continued as she directed her attention back to her book. “You're very lucky to have him.”

Len stayed quiet. The reassurance that Raymond was, in fact, unharmed, put his mind at a bit more ease than he'd like to admit. But now that that was out of the way, another problem floated to the forefront of his mind, as he stared at the book in the woman's hands. The writing on it he couldn't read, but he definitely recognized. And he recalled seeing a calendar on the wall back in the living room, when Raymond had gone to explore the house.

Wariness settled in his stomach again as he quietly asked, “Why are you helping us?”

The woman didn't miss a beat. “Because you needed it.”

Len frowned. “You know what I meant.”

There was a pause as the woman looked up from her book again and met his eyes steadily. There was almost an amused glint in her eyes, but her face was also guarded. “What? Should I not have helped a bleeding and helpless man and his fearful friend, just because they are Americans?”

She shook her head. “And you say we Russians are prejudiced. Ha! Now who is the one to be mistrustful just because I'm Russian?”

“Trust isn't in my nature.”

She snorted. “I suppose not. Makes me wonder how you ended up with someone like Ray. Surely he must have gone against everything you stood for.”

Len blinked, the unexpected mention of Raymond catching him off guard. He was at a loss of how to respond, mostly because the woman was _right_. Raymond did go against everything he stood for, and yet…somehow, here they were. And he had no idea what to say to that.

Not that he had any right to say anything.

The woman gave him a small smile, one that carried a knowing look that made Len frown. “Rest up, Leonard. We can continue this when you're better.”

She turned back to her book. And Len only continued to stare for a few more minutes before letting the exhaustion from the entire day pull him back to sleep.

* * *

The next few days Len shifted between consciousness and sleep. He hated it, feeling this weak and helpless, but Raymond wouldn't let him get up until the wound healed, which is taking considerably more time than he liked, especially since he had become so used to Gideon’s accelerated healing.

The woman, Galina (or Galya, as Raymond had been calling her), was patient and kind, both of which made Len uneasy at first but slowly grew to appreciate. He knew from Raymond that the man had been helping her with the houses and chores to repay her for her hospitality, and he also knew that Raymond apparently didn't even think of the implications of them, two Americans, being taken care of like this in a Russian home in the year 1996.

Still he was wary. And the one time Raymond left with Galina to go into town for groceries on a pickup truck, Len found himself tense and agitated until they returned.

That didn't stop Raymond from telling him all about the shopping trip. They didn't just go for food, but also bought some winter appropriate clothes for the both of them. Raymond had gotten him a parka that looked incredibly similar to his old one, and he all but beamed at him as he showed it to him.

Len wasn't entirely sure if he had smiled or not.

Raymond went on to talk about the trip itself.

“It was a little weird, the social cues here are so different from what I know. It's going to take a while to get used to,” he had explained, “but I do like the town. It's a lot more quiet. I don't get overstimulated.”

Which revealed a part of Raymond that Len had always suspected, but since the other man didn't think much of it, Len didn't bring it up, either.

While he spent his time in bed, Raymond spent his either helping Galina or next to him, telling Len about his day. That was how he found out that Raymond had taken the pickup truck and salvaged the wreckage of the jump ship as much as he could, and was working on repairing it.

“Well, I'm not Jax,” he had said, expression serious and yet hopeful, “but I think I'll be able to at least get the comms and homing beacon functioning again.”

Galina, for her part, didn't question the ship or their unusual tech, taking it all in stride and Raymond stated that the only way he could think of to show his gratitude is to help her even more around the house.

It was a full two weeks later when Len was deemed well enough to move around on his own. By that time, he'd grown so restless that he couldn't stay in bed for the night.

Careful not to make too much noise, he made his way to the living room, then to the kitchen. He hadn't had the chance to case the entire house, but the kitchen was the first room other than his and Raymond’s rooms that he did scan over. He knew which cabinet he was going for, and frowned when he opened it and his item of interest was nowhere to be found.

“Looking for this?”

Len sighed. He didn't need to turn to know that Galina was standing at the doorway, looking at him with that same amused and knowing look that he'd grown to love to hate.

“Should've known you'd do this.” He drawled, slipping back into the version of himself that he'd tried to destroy. He grimaced, then finally turned fully to face the older woman and crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose you're going to lecture me about the hazards of drinking while healing.”

The _look_ was still in place as Galina raised the bottle of vodka in her hand. “Actually, I was about to ask you to join me.”

Len raised an eyebrow.

Ten minutes later both were sitting at the dining table with the bottle open and their glasses half empty.

At first they drank in silence, until one of them started talking. Somehow the conversation shifted from day to day annoyances to their sleeping habits and finally, it shifted to Raymond.

“Such a warm and caring man. Both qualities are rare, these days. And it is clear how much he cares for you,” Galina said with a laugh, “I stand by what I said when I first met the two of you: you're very lucky to have him.”

Len fell silent at that, staring at the far wall. He could feel Galina’s eyes on him. “Clearly you do, too. Care about him, that is.” Her voice had grown soft. “What is stopping you?”

Instead of responding, he took another swig of alcohol.

The silence stretched on into the night, until finally Len sighed. “I shouldn't.”

Galina didn't say anything in response, but the question was there, hanging heavily in the air, until Len felt like it was going to crush him.

“I almost killed him.” The words rolled out of his lips before he could stop them. He had never talked about this with anyone, not even Mick. “I _wanted_ to kill him.”

He could still remember it, clear as day, how he had lodged the cold gun’s barrel underneath Raymond’s chin, with every intend to pull the trigger, to freeze that shocked look of hurt and plea in place for eternity before shattering it, wiping the world clean of his stupid optimism forever.

He had _wanted_ that. Had genuinely intended to hurt, to _kill_ Raymond. Just knowing that it was part of his memory, part of _him_ , made him _sick_.

“But you didn't.” Galina’s voice cut in.

Len let out a humorless laugh. “Not by choice.”

He would never tell Heywood this, but he was more grateful than anyone could ever imagine that the guy had been there to stop him in time.

Galina hummed, then drank some more from her own glass. “But. You've clearly changed since then.”

Well, technically, yes. He changed back, but he also changed more. That wasn't something Len felt like explaining. “More or less.”

“Then I think you should give yourself a chance.”

Galina put down her empty glass. Len stared at the bottle to avoid looking at her.

“It's up to you,” the woman concluded warmly, then she stood and stretched. “I think that's enough for me tonight.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, and Len surprised himself when he didn't feel the urge to shrug it off.

“Good night, Leonard.”

He waved at her in response, and he never noticed the door next to the one that led to his room quietly swing shut.

* * *

The next few days crawled by and nothing really changed, aside from that Len now helped out with less straining chores as well. Raymond now spent more time working on fixing what he could of the jump ship, which meant he spent more time in the rather spacious garage Galina had than the actual house.

Occasionally Len would go over to check on the scientist, but those trips usually ended up with him watching uselessly from the sidelines as Raymond rambled on about science. And while Len was able to understand it enough to know what Raymond was trying to do, ultimately there was no way for him to help. Instead, Len watched the time for him and forced him to take a break from the jump ship when needed.

One morning Len woke up with an uneasy feeling already brewing in his gut.

He made his way into the living room and immediately noticed what was wrong.

“Where's Raymond?”

Galina glanced up from another book and looked back down. “He went into town with the pickup truck. Something about needing some hardware supplies to fix your ship.”

He stared. “You let him go _alone_?”

Galina looked up fully this time, looking surprised. “Yes? It's not the first time he's done it. Ray's been to town alone a few times when you were still confined to the bed.”

There was nothing he could say to oppose that. But still the feeling lingered and Len found himself pacing the floor restlessly as the day wore on.

Finally, Galina came to him. “You're really that worried?”

Len's only reply was a sharp look towards the front door.

“Ray has told me about this, that you have a sixth sense for danger.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I suppose I should believe him.”

A nod. “Come, I have another car.”

Len followed Galina out after putting on the appropriate clothes. Together they got into a small Russian car and sped away towards the town.

The town wasn't small, but it wasn't big either. Just the right size to have a city hall and a building for a train station, but other than that was rather dull. Good. This meant they could find Raymond faster.

Twenty minutes later they spotted the pickup truck parked in front of a hardware store, but Raymond was nowhere to be seen.

Len began pacing around the truck to look for any signs of him as Galina went into store to ask the clerk for information. The uneasy feeling in his stomach had only gotten stronger with each passing minute and he hated it, hated the helplessness and the dread, and hated that he couldn't stop himself from worrying about the other man.

Galina returned from the store with a grim look on her face.

“They said they last saw Ray leaving the store with a group of young men following him.”

The two of them shared a look before nodding at each other and heading in opposite directions to look for Raymond.

Len hurried through the streets, cursing the entire time as he looked for something, anything that could tell him where Raymond could have gone.

Finally he saw the scarf he remembered Raymond showing off from that first trip into town, discarded on the pavement just at the entrance of an alleyway. Len picked up the piece of clothing and glanced around once before making his way down the alley.

He heard the sounds first. It made him clench his teeth and spurred him to speed up, but still he froze the moment he rounded the corner.

There was Raymond, currently backed against a wall and curled on the ground, as six men surrounded him, punching and kicking at him while jeering and laughing.

Len saw _red_.

He didn't even know when he had moved, but the next instant he was standing right behind one of the attackers and with a series of moves had punched the guy in the face and bodily tossed him into a wall.

The other five started at this sudden development, but none of them took much time to pin him as the newest threat and turn to him. Len growled at them, daring them to come closer, and lashed out at them without mercy. The mostly healed wound in his side stung in protest of the strain put on it, but Len couldn’t care less.

Soon he had taken down four more guys, and the last remaining man took a desperate swing with a fist at his face, which Len caught and twisted around to send the guy crying out to the ground. Len sneered at him, too caught up in his anger, and swiftly he drew out his cold gun.

“Wait, Len.”

He powered it up, took aim, and pulled the trigger.

“Len! _Wait_!” Suddenly something grabbed hold of his arm and forced his aim away, and the ice blast hit the wall next to him instead of the intended target. Len stared in incredulous silence at Raymond, who was now peering at him with a bruised face with his arms wrapped around his own, as he demanded for an explanation.

“They're just kids.” Raymond gasped, still breathing hard from the beating he had taken. “They're just _kids_ , Len, please, don't kill them.”

Finally, for the first time, Len got a good look at the man on the ground before him. He scowled when he realized the “man” couldn't have been older than eighteen. And he looked downright terrified.

A look around told him that the rest of the attackers were either the same age or slightly older, and with a start Len realized that this was most likely why Raymond hadn’t fought back, or at least why he hadn’t fought well. Len glared at the kid still awake and powered down the cold gun and twisted his arm out of Raymond’s grip.

“Get out of here and don't let me see you again,” he snarled at the kid. The kid gave a frantic nod before making his escape from the alley with a whimper.

With the danger over, Len finally allowed himself to relax. A little. Then he turned to face Raymond, who was leaning against the wall, still trying to catch his breath.

Without thinking Len moved forward, and he reached out with one hand to cup Raymond’s face, running his thumb lightly over a particular dark bruise on the cheek. That had got to hurt.

Suddenly Raymond’s eyes snapped up to him and he stared.

“It was you,” he whispered. And the confusion must have shown on Len’s face, because the other man laughed a bit before bringing up his own hand to touch Len’s, which was still pressed against his cheek. “Back on the jump ship, when we just crashed. The warmth. It was you. You were trying to wake me up.”

Let blinked. Then suddenly he was very aware of what exactly he was doing. Tensing up, he tried drawing back his hand, but Raymond held it in place.

“Raymond,” he tried to warn, but he sounded desperate even to himself. He wasn't ready for this, whatever this was. He couldn't. Not now. “Please.”

He could see the slight hurt in Raymond’s eyes, but at the same time he saw a hint of understanding, as the man smiled brightly at him, and released his hand. “Of course, Len. I'm sorry.”

Relief and guilt coursed through him in equal parts as he turned away.

They made their way back to the pickup truck where Galina stood waiting. The woman took one look at Ray and her eyes hardened. Curtly she instructed them to take the car while she drove the truck.

Raymond was silent most of the way back to the house, and Len used his concentration on the road in front of him as an excuse to not have to talk.

After they got back and were treating Ray’s injuries (mostly bruises and slight cuts, thankfully), Len purposely refused to meet Galina’s eyes, which were sending him a loud and clear message of “we need to talk”.

* * *

Ray was very frustrated.

On one hand, he knew that somehow, he and Len had been able to patch things up to a certain degree. At least he didn't actively try to avoid him anymore. That was progress, as far as he was concerned.

Yet at the same time, Len still seemed to hold him at arm's length.

Which he understood. To a degree. Especially after overhearing that late night conversation all those nights ago. Didn't mean he liked it, though.

But after that last trip into town that had gone wrong, Len had been more and more… _soft_ , for lack of a better word. Ray knew that Galya had been talking to him, but he didn't dare to hope that this could mean anything. Instead, Ray threw all of his concentration into fixing the jump ship. He was so close to actually fixing the homing beacon, and he hoped that the Waverider would be able to find them right away when he did.

They couldn't afford to get stranded too long, after all.

Not again.

As much as Ray liked and appreciated Galya and her kindness, he couldn’t help but recall what Rip had said about living in a period not their own for too long, couldn’t help but remember the relief on Kendra face when the Waverider shifted into view. They shouldn’t get attached. It had already been over two months. They shouldn’t - _couldn’t_ \- stay here for much longer. They needed to get out of here before they start losing themselves to this time. They needed to get back on the Waverider.

That was ultimately what pushed him to virtually move into the garage, except when he needed - or well, when _Len_ believed he needed - to eat and sleep.

Len was less than impressed by his antics, to say the least.

It was another late night of working on the device when Len promptly stormed into the garage. Again.

“You need to rest, Raymond. You've been working at it nonstop for six hours.”

“I'm almost done.” He replied on reflex, then winced at this automated response. He could feel Len rolling his eyes.

“That's what you said before passing out in here at four a.m. last night.”

“I mean it this time.” Ray said weakly. And he really did. He was nearly done, he just needed a bit more time.

A hand on his shoulder. “Raymond.”

Ray sighed, putting down the wielder in his hands before letting a smile spread on his face. “Glad to know you care.” He looked up at the other man, smiling at him again before standing and turning away to hang the work apron he'd been wearing back up on the wall.

When he turned back he found Len close. _Very_ close.

“Um,” he swallowed, meeting Len's eyes as the other man steadily stared back. “Len?”

Len didn't say anything, but he took a step forward, and Ray took one back to match him. This continued until Ray hit the wall behind him, and they were brought to a standstill. But then Len moved in closer.

Len had him trapped against the wall, his right hand planted firmly next to his head while his left hand landed on his hip. Ray’s breath caught in his throat and he audibly swallowed, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Deciding to be bold, he moved his own hands to touch Len, both coming up to rest on the other man’s shoulders. Ray didn't know if he should do more, if Len would allow him, so he stayed still, but the smile on his face was growing into a stupid grin with each passing instant that Len didn't pull away, and he couldn't stop himself from getting lost in those piercing blue eyes staring back at him, pulling him in, enchanting him, luring and mesmerizing and, _God_ , he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

Suddenly Len shifted, coming even closer, and Ray only got one second to register the hand next to his head moving to wrap itself around the back of his neck and pulling him forward and-

Just like that, all trains of thought came to a screeching halt in his mind, as he felt Len’s lips on his own, pushing and demanding and so, so _passionate_ that it stole Ray’s breath away, and immediately Ray reacted, kissing back, returning the intensity with his own earnestness, and there was nothing that can stop the atomic explosion of pure _joy_ from detonating in his chest and spreading to every inch of him. He’d wanted this, dreamed about this, _pined_ after this for so _long_ and Ray could barely comprehend that it was really, truly, _finally_ , happening.

His hands moved from Len’s shoulders. The right one hooked itself around Len’s neck and the other traveled up and rested against his cheek. Len gently nibbled at his lips, a sensation that shot jolts of stars through his vision and Ray barely managed to hold back the moan that tried to escape.

Then something else, something warm and soft, pushed against his lips and deliberately traced over them, and Ray cracked open his eyes that he didn't even remember closing and saw Len staring at him again, with that penetrating gaze, but this time, Ray could see the silent request for permission in those ice blue eyes.

Ray only paused for a millisecond, to ground himself, to remind himself that this was _real_ , and then he dutifully parted his lips and teeth.

Len’s tongue shot forward instantly, filling his mouth, exploring and touching everything it could, the hand at the back of his head keeping him in place, and Ray couldn't stop the moans from getting out this time. Then Len swirled his tongue around his own, and Ray’s knees gave out from under him.

But he was still propped up by the wall he was pinned against, with Len's chest firm against his own, and Len’s hand that was on his hip had moved to the small of his back, effectively holding him up by tucking the arm into Ray’s side. Ray himself clung onto Len’s neck and shoulder like his life depended on it, and used the added weight of his loss of footing to aid him in returning the heated french kiss, pushing his own tongue against Len’s and dared to try and enter Len’s mouth himself.

Len let him, and everything fell away into _bliss_ as Ray allowed himself to take his time, licking up every inch of Len’s mouth, tasting the reformed criminal and savoring the flavor.

It felt like _heaven_.

They broke apart eventually, both breathing hard. Ray was leaning his weight completely into Len by now, only still held up by the chest pressing him into the wall behind him, and the knee that Len had managed to wedge between his legs. Len was looking up at him, and Ray could feel tears of joy pricking at his eyes at the pure _adoration_ in his gaze. He laughed, leaning down to touch his forehead to Len’s and closed his eyes again.

“Len,” he breathed, barely just a whisper, “I love you.”

Ray heard Len take in a sharp breath, and he didn't have the courage to open his eyes to see his reaction, to see his face, because he knew the weight of the words he just spoke, and he didn't think he had the heart to have his hopes crushed right now, not when he just experienced something so wonderful, not when he could still pretend that this moment could stretch on forever.

But then Len’s hand moved, from the back of his neck to his chin, and he was guided into another kiss, this one soft and chaste. Ray found himself holding his breath as Len moved further, wrapping his arms around Ray entirely, and held him in the embrace.

“ _Raymond_ ,” Len whispered into his ear. Then, pressing his lips to his temple, very quietly, “I love you, too.”

Ray let out another laugh, drops of tears spilling out of his eyes as he returned the hug and buried his face into Len’s neck, holding Len tight, never wanting to let go.

The two of them stayed like that until a knock sounded from the doorway into the house. Ray looked up to see Galya smiling warmly at them.

“You are very cute,” she teased. Then she turned around and gestured for them to follow her, “I have some midnight snack we can have to celebrate, then you can go to bed.”

Ray looked back at Len and met his eyes. They smiled at each other, Ray's wide and beaming and Len's small but content, then Ray leaned in for one more quick kiss before taking Len's hand in his own and gently guiding them after Galya.

He felt Len's fingers tighten around his own, and Ray’s heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.

* * *

That night they shared the same bed. It didn’t escalate further than them wrapping themselves around each other, mostly because Len insisted that Ray needed to rest. And Ray was more than fine with that, but he also knew that he’d let Len do whatever he wanted to him should the time come.

The next morning Ray almost didn’t want to get out of bed, wanting to snuggle into Len’s chest for just a bit longer. He gave himself a full ten minute of pretending he was still tired, then he reluctantly pushed himself away from the warmth Len provided.

And yet, he couldn’t leave the bed, not just yet, and he lay there, looking at his sleeping…lover? Boyfriend? They should talk about this later - until Len opened his eyes and stared back.

“Good morning,”  Ray said softly, a smile on his lips. Len hummed in response, and brought up one hand to brush Ray’s still messy hair out of his face.

“I’ll be able to fix the homing beacon today,” he continued. “The team will be able to find us.”

Len didn’t reply right away, but then a small smile settled on his lips.

“Think Galina would be glad to finally be rid of us?”

Ray laughed. They both knew it was only half true.

Later that day both of them stayed in the garage until Ray finished the last bit of wiring. Then he gave the device to Len and let him do the honors of turning the beacon on.

It was underwhelming, honestly, how Len had simply flipped a switch and the beacon began flashing a small red light.They left the beacon on in the garage and went back into the house to wait.

Two hours later the sky glimmered, and the Waverider shifted into view.

Galya joined them on the porch as the large time ship landed in the clearing. She let out long whistle at the sight.

Ray watched the door to the ship open with his hand conjoined with Len’s, their fingers interlaced. The first two out of the ship were Nate and Jax, who immediately ran towards them as soon as they saw them. Mick trailed behind them at a much slower pace.

“Guys!” Nate shouted, waving his arms, “Oh man, you have no idea how worried we were! The time storm hit us pretty badly and we had to wait for Jax and Rip to fix the ship, and even after that we couldn’t find any trace of you guys. We didn’t know if the jump ship had even made it! We couldn’t find the signal and we thought you might be _dead_ but then you popped back up on the radar again and we-”

He was promptly cut off when Jax shoved an elbow into his side, and at the loud protest from the older man he just nodded at Ray and Len.

Ray couldn’t help but laugh when Nate’s eyes landed on them, as if finally seeing them for the first time, and his jaw dropped open wordlessly. He pulled Len closer to him, and smiled at the speechless man and an amused Jax. “It’s good to see you too, Nate.”

“Speak for yourself,” Len grumbled next to him, but there was no real heat behind the words. Nate still had a stunned look on his face when Mick came up from behind. The arsonist took one look at them and snorted, crossing his arms over his chest, “Finally, you idiots.”

Jax stepped forward with a smirk, “Congrats, man. About time you guys took a step forward. But I have a more pressing concern.” His face grew serious. “Where’s my jump ship?”

He was not impressed by the wreckage in the garage.

An hour later, they were ready to leave. The jump ship, or what’s left of it, was taken aboard the Waverider, with a promise from Jax to make it as good as new. Sara and Rip had come out to greet Galya and thank her for taking care of them, like parents taking back their children from the daycare. And finally, as they stood at the entrance of the Waverider, Ray and Len said their goodbyes to the woman who had shown them nothing but kindness.

Galya kissed Ray on both cheeks before pulling him into a warm hug. “Good bye, _милочка_ , take care of yourself and him.”

“I will,” Ray promised, returning the embrace. “Thank you, Galya, for everything.”

He let go of the woman, and she turned to Len. She held out a hand. “Leonard.”

“Galina,” Len said back, taking the hand, but then Galya caught them both by surprise as she pulled him forward and into a hug as well. Len didn’t move for a second, but then slowly, the brought up his arms and wrapped them around her.

They parted after a few seconds, and Galya patted Len on the shoulders with both hands, giving him a knowing look.

“Don’t let go of him, you hear me?” she said.

Ray could feel the blush spreading across his cheeks, but he also couldn’t help the stupidly large smile as Len glanced back at him, and there was nothing but _conviction_ in his eyes.

“I won’t.”

The words were both an answer and a promise, and Ray found himself moving forward, almost like he was falling, until he landed in Len’s arms again. He didn’t slow down as he moved closer, until their lips were locked in another kiss, and Ray knew that everything was _right_.

_**The End** _

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _милочка_ (milochka) is a very endearing version of ‘dear’ in Russian. :D
> 
> One thing I want to clarify, is that I grew up in Russia in the 90’s, and the various things that happened in the fic and the character of Galina/Galya are based on true experiences that me and my family and friends had gone through. While not everyone in Russia were like the ones I had depicted here, those kind of people did exist. People that were super prejudiced against Americans and even Asians and anyone who spoke English, and people who genuinely didn't care and just wanted to live their life in peace. And it'll often surprise you which people are which.
> 
> Thank you for reading this 10k+ story that got out of control and I hope you all have a very good rest of the year. <3


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